Toy Soldiers
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: Don't you want love? Don't you want this? Don't you look so shocked, that's not the way I planned it...don't you want love? Don't you fight back, know this will hurt less if you just submit... AU. Rape/non-con.
1. Chapter 1

_**Those Eyes**_

**A/N: This story was based off Evanescence's song "Snow White Queen". I've been wanting to write something based off of it for awhile, and I rewatched the Night and the Fury yesterday, which offered me the perfect opportunity. I honestly believe that Dagur wants Hiccup, in this manner, and no, not romantically. I mean like in a sick way. Even if Dagur did canonically do this, he's still such a fascinating character to me. He's mentally unstable, he's bloodthirsty and insane, and yet he's smart enough to be a threat. He's selfish and childish, and often runs on pure impulse, much like Hiccup, and like Hiccup, his pride and emotions get in the way of making the right choice. He is so fascinating to me, and he remains my favorite character that Dreamworks introduced in the show. Even though Alvin inspired angsty fanfiction, and Heather was awesome and Mildew is the absolute best for comic relief, Dagur is still the best because he actually feels threatening to me. With Heather and Alvin and Mildew, I know things are going to end okay, because they don't feel dangerous to me. But Dagur? He could have really done something like this. **

**Warning, rape and sexual abuse implied. **

* * *

I didn't understand it when I was younger. All I knew was that it was scary, and ugly and he was bigger than me, so I couldn't defend myself when he started to undress me. All I knew was that I screamed and cried that time, that first time that it ever happened. I was horrified and scared, and I couldn't figure out what was going on, only that it was something that felt shameful and dirty. I knew I'd done something wrong, but I couldn't figure out what.

So I kept quiet about it.

But no matter how much I tried not to think about it, even though I told myself lies and slowly forgot the way his hands touched me, the way he looked as he towered over me, the way he sneered at me when I started crying and begging him to stop…even though I could forget all that, I couldn't forget those eyes, green and very dark, so dark they gave me a chill. Green eyes, constantly watching me.

When Dad told me that they were coming again, I didn't really register what he'd said. All I knew was that those eyes were traveling across the miles of ocean that separated us, the miles of ocean that made it possible for me to sleep at night, because I knew he couldn't get to me. Those hands were going to come back and undress me again, and then touch me in the way that I hated. He was going to tower over me again.

I wanted to prevent it. I didn't want to do anything wrong again, so I tried to stay out of his way. But he found me. Those green eyes found me again, and he made sure we were out on the deserted beach, the haunted beach, the one place that no Vikings on the island ever went. He made sure we were completely alone, and that the spot was isolated, before he touched me again. And this time, when I started crying, he told me he would run me through with his knife if I ever cried like that again.

He left on the boat with his father, and I stood beside my own, feeling his green eyes upon me, warning me to keep quiet until the next time it happened. Because I knew then that there would be a next time, and that there would keep being a next time until I did something about it. And that wasn't an option.

I learned to take it in silence. I learned not to cry, or scream, because crying made him angry and screaming might attract attention. Those first few times, I felt a little bit like maybe I wanted attention. Even if the Viking who found us would judge me when they saw what was happening, their judgment couldn't be any worse than his green eyes, his cold touch, his cruel hands all over me.

Then I knew I never wanted attention, I never wanted anybody to know about it. I learned to keep my head down, mostly. I just…withstood it, I guess. But this time, this time, things were going to be different. Toothless and I never went anywhere without each other. He wouldn't be able to get me on my own this time. Toothless wouldn't allow that. I didn't like the feeling of knowing I would be in close proximity with him, but I trusted Toothless so absolutely to keep me safe that I wasn't that worked up about it.

Until Dad told me to hide the dragons.

I tried to convince him otherwise. I begged him to let me show Osvald the truth about them, but he didn't listen. He just barked at me to do as he said, and it was just like old times, before I'd killed the dragon queen and made him proud of me. He was mad at me again, and even though what those green eyes and those cold hands did to me was a thousand times worse than my father's anger, I allowed it to happen. I led Toothless to the cove. I struggled not to cry as I walked away from him, because I knew I was walking away from my only semblance of safety and facing this horrible event, once again.

And Toothless would know something was wrong, and when he tried to ask, I would end up crying, and then he'd definitely know something was wrong. I gritted my teeth. I was not going to cry in front of him. I could tell him anything, and I knew that, but I had never told him about this. How could I? Even with him, I didn't feel completely, one hundred percent safe when thinking about him. But alone, facing those green eyes alone? I was a wreck when I made it to the docks, my hands shaking, every muscle in my body stretched taut, ready for the moment when my clothes would come off.

He would comment about my leg, maybe. Ask who had taken it. I wouldn't have an answer, and he didn't like it when I didn't answer.

Dad glanced sideways at me, and opened his mouth like he wanted to speak, but the moment passed, the boats reached our docks, and my violator was in front of me again. I swallowed, pressing myself closer to my father. His steady, strong arm wasn't the warm comfort I wanted from Toothless, but it was enough to keep me standing there, at least.

And then he stepped off the ship. Him. Dagur. Those green eyes…watching me. Time and distance couldn't take the edge off a gaze like that, and even though it had been a year, his gaze told me everything I needed to know: he had come back for me again, and he would keep coming back for me until he was dead, or I was, or until I told. And that last one wasn't happening. Not today. Not ever.

He was holding a knife in one hand, casually, easily. That was the knife he'd threatened to run me through with when I started crying. I swallowed. He lifted his gaze to mine just for a second, a smile spreading slowly across his painted face. Those green eyes were still watching me.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Those Eyes**_

**A/N: SO **

**I know everyone thought this fic was dead - to be perfectly honest, I did, too - but I got an idea of how to continue it last week, and since then, I've been writing on it rather obsessively, seeking the way to make it perfect. Now, this chapter is definitely a far cry from perfect, but it's...it's good. Right? Doable. I feel like I gave it my best shot, because I spent like three days on this, and ordinarily I spend an hour or two on a chapter, which makes me sound shitty and like I'm giving you guys all these pieces that are just basically spelling errors and half-assed plotting, but sometimes my writing comes out better that way. So I spent like four days on this, and I hope you all like it! **

**Furthermore, you can hate me all you want for continuing this after you already gave up on it, sure - have at it. But just think about the above reasons before you flame, please. Also, I'm sick. Which sucks. A lot. :P**

* * *

I had never before appreciated just how little attention Dad gave me. His lack of love had always been a source of great bitterness for me, so it was only now, shaking, swaying, trembling like a leaf caught in a strong wind, that I found it in me to thank every deity I knew that my father didn't care enough to question me, and barely looked at me enough to notice. He would never know that his hand on my back was the only thing keeping me rooted there, forcing me to meet Dagur's eyes, though it made my skin crawl to do so.

Those eyes. They haunted my every waking hour; they watched me all the time in my dreams; they were fixed on me all day, once every year; and they were roving hungrily over me now, staring and drinking me in and looking like the owner of them couldn't imagine doing anything else, or even wanting to do anything else.

My stomach churned, threatening to bring up stomach acid – nothing more was in my system to reject. This was one day of the year in which I was sure to never eat a thing.

And then his father stepped off the ship. Osvald the Agreeable looked even older now than ever, and he appeared feebler, too; he seemed to need a bit of assistance just getting off the ship, and when he finally made it to the end of the ramp, his smile was tired, and he looked worn. I had never had to wonder whether he secretly knew about what happened whenever his son was alone with me; he was far too casually affectionate to leave any room for doubt.

Anyone who knew the kinds of things I'd be doing the moment he was out of sight would not smile at me in that way, or ruffle my hair.

"Hey, Hiccup," he greeted me with his customary cheer, large hand moving to my shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You've grown a bit!"

I wondered if his eyesight was failing – I certainly wasn't any taller, but maybe the prosthetic was added to that. Speaking of the prosthetic…I glanced down at it, a little nervously, that block of curved metal currently serving as the rest of one of my legs. I forced myself to lift my gaze again, meeting Dagur's dark, cold green ones on my way back up – he'd seen. My stomach twisted uncomfortably. He'd want to know…I'd need to think up a convincing lie…

I felt sure I was going to be sick as I forced a smile onto my face – a silly, crooked, stupid-looking one. Anyone would see through it in a moment. "Thank you, sir."

Dad gave me a glowing look – last year, I'd been so scared I'd just sort of mumbled a hello to Osvald before taking off with Dagur, possibly giving the former the impression that I preferred his son's company to his when it was completely the opposite. I managed to keep the grin on my face long enough for Dad to tear his eyes away from me, but I felt even sicker watching him talk to the other chieftain. If he knew what was going on while they signed peace treaties, he would never, ever give me that glowing look again. I wanted, more than anything, to stay with him for the course of the visit, just stick to his side and not even look at Dagur…but I wouldn't do that, couldn't, and we both knew it.

Dad was finally proud of me – maybe even a little fond of me, but I wasn't going to jump to conclusions on that score. Fourteen years of indifference doesn't just dissolve because of a dragon or two. I wasn't going to jeopardize all that because of this. I'd been dealing with this for years. Since I was five. I could deal with it again. Deal with it until I died.

"Why don't you and Dagur go find something to do now?" Dad suggested softly. "Maybe you two could go exploring in the forest."

Except that we weren't five anymore. The forest wasn't private enough to suit Dagur's needs. Fishlegs had nearly caught us one time, which would have been really hard to explain – even though Dagur heard him walking around and got off me, we were still both naked, our clothes in a heap beside us, and wouldn't that have been fun to explain away?

But I didn't say that, and neither did Dagur; we both just turned, without a word, to the rocky, bumpy path to the secluded beach – the one with the million little caves right on the water's edge, some that allowed the tide to flow in and the others that offered refuge from the freezing ocean, shutting out all liquid with its sandy floor and rock walls. The beach was private, very private; nobody could hear you for miles all around. But you were guaranteed alone time if you hit the caves. The crashing of waves against rocks, the noises of underwater dragons, and the cries of seagulls completely blocked out all noise from outside or inside the caves, meaning if you were in there, nobody outside could hear you; and if you were outside the cave, you couldn't hear anything within.

The walk was hard even on people with two legs; but I soon myself panting, drawing in ragged gasps, both from fear and the exertion from walking – well, more like stumbling – briskly. Still, it was one of the most intense exercises I had completed since losing my leg, and it really took its toll on me – by the time we made it to the beach, I had just about worked out two half-assed plans, one the initial one and the other a backup. Plan A? Strip off my clothes, really quickly. With luck, he'd forget all about my leg once he had me right where he wanted me. If that failed, I was already working out a cover story – I'd tell him that it had just been an accident and all my fault, and he'd believe that because this was me, and I screwed everything up.

There was no hesitation in my movements when I reached up to unlace my shirt, but Dagur stayed my hand with one of his.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he laughed, and I could smell raw meat on his breath. "Are you really that pleased to see me, Hiccup?"

I could not control the sudden flush rising into my face as I dropped my hands, letting them rest at my sides. Of course I'd been so focused on whoring around and giving him a nice little show…

"Well, now I need to know," he took a step closer to me, and his grip on my wrists was uncomfortably tight. His lips ghosted across my cheek as he spoke. "Who did this to you?" I knew what he meant without having to ask.

"Nobody," I stammered nervously, my heart beating fast in my chest. "It…it was an accident…" He was making it really hard to focus by slipping one hand off my arm and onto my thigh. But it went no farther; a testament to how curious he was.

He made a small sound in the back of his throat, wordlessly prompting me to go on.

"It…it was an accident…" Shit, now I needed an actual cover story. I had thought he wouldn't be willing to listen beyond this. "A…a dragon raid…"

"I know how you are with those," he whispered, and he sounded almost sympathetic. "What kind of dragon did this to you?"

"A Monstrous Nightmare," I whispered shakily. "B-bit me. I tried to run, but he—it sank his—its teeth…into my bone and…I couldn't m-move—

"Shh." He put a finger to my lips, and the look in his eyes now made me shudder. "Let me make it all better." His hand now deserted my thigh to tug at the waistband of my leggings, pulling them down. I shifted uneasily, already anticipating the baring of my lower body.

I felt it leave my thighs first before slipping unchecked down to my knees – it was a bit of a struggle to actually get it past the point where my leg ended and the wood and metal began – and then down on past my shins, down to my ankles.

"Lay back, Hiccup." He barely waited for me to respond; he just gave me a gentle shove, sending me backward, onto the sand. Sharp-edged rocks dug into my skin where I lay, and I could hear the seagulls crying and waves crashing, even from here. I was shaking, even though the ground wasn't that cold.

"I'm gonna make it all better."

I shuddered when his fingers probed the tender area, caressing the injury lovingly.

"I will find that dragon," he whispered, and his lips were suddenly very near to my ear, "and I will make him pay." And then he kissed the scarred stump.

I could barely breathe. I was frozen, shaking, my breathing ragged and shallow and fast, like I was seconds away from hyperventilating. Right then, I felt like I was.

"I missed you so much, Hiccup," Dagur whispered; his breath was hot on my face, and every inch of me stung and ached from lying half-naked on the beach. "You can't imagine how much I love today." His voice was husky and intense.

I tried to swallow and found it impossible – my throat was too dry. I knew I wouldn't be able to speak, either, so I just kept quiet, letting it happen, letting his hands rove up my legs and all over me, and Thor, it was just so hard to breathe…I was panting and gasping by the time he rose up; though he spoke quietly, in a voice that was meant only for me, I couldn't respond, couldn't even look at him as he talked. I stared out to sea instead, watching the waves crashing and rolling, indicating an incoming tide.

I knew he was speaking, though, telling me how much he loved this day and how much he wanted to make it last forever, and how we had hours to ourselves, and even with his hands on my shoulders now, he never noticed my shudder when he said that. He lowered his head, pressing his lips against my neck, breath hot and rapid, expressing his excitement. "This is so perfect," he murmured, and I couldn't tell if he meant today or us or the place…when I looked up, his face loomed dizzily above me, and the sky and clouds blurred together, an endless mass of blue-white. "So perfect," he repeated, and I couldn't do anything, couldn't respond, so I just let him talk in between kissing me, my neck and forehead and ear. I was still trying to calm my shivers when he finally leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Let's take this into the caves."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okayy. So I'm renaming this fic. I'm too lazy to go back and change the first two chapters with its title of "Those Eyes", so I'll leave it, but the new title is Toy Soldiers from the Marianas Trench song. I was originally just gonna skip to a new scene for this chapter but then I felt like a copout for not writing the actual rape scene. But at the same time, I had to be careful while writing this at risk of upsetting myself. I'm pretty happy with the result, as the focus isn't actually on the rape, but rather on Hiccup and his ways of coping with it. His self-worth is kind of with the fishes, huh. Welllll in his defense, this AU isn't just him being bullied and looked down on for fourteen years but also suffering abuse and basically being taught that he's nothing. So. I feel like his issues with himself are pretty believable at this point. **

* * *

It had taken nearly ten years, but I could safely say that I'd gotten very good at focusing. There was a trick to it, an art even, and it was this: when I was with Dagur, I could think about anything, anything at all…except what was happening to me.

The simplicity of this trick actually astounded me sometimes; this technique had saved my life on more than one occasion, it was the reason I could still sleep every night, still choke down food every day, still smile and laugh and hug Toothless or talk with my dad or let Astrid touch my shoulder without jerking away…

All those hours spent with Dagur, each breath a struggle and each second an eternity, I would focus. My eyes would stay open, but I couldn't see; I wasn't deaf, but I couldn't hear. I wasn't dying, but my body was numb. I couldn't feel any pain. I retreated somewhere deep inside of me, a self-made refuge, an inner sanctuary, and for those hours, I didn't hurt. I entered into a place that was almost peaceful, the only shelter in a storm. And I thought about all the small things, grains of sand between my fingers and stray auburn hairs tickling my forehead, and I never, ever thought about the monster trying to swallow me whole.

If I did, it might eat me alive.

So when Dagur led me into the cave and I lay down on the floor, I could feel damp sand clinging to every inch of exposed skin and I thought about it.

_Sand, gritty and rough and dark, coarse, millions and millions of grains…there's no way anyone could count them all. I wonder how many grains of sand there are in the world. So much sand, so many numberless grains…_

Fisting my fingers around the particles, I could feel them scraping, scratching, raking over my palm, and I welcomed the pain. It was a sanctuary all its own. My hands were shaking when I unclenched them, so I let the grains fall back and rejoin the others, and I turned my gaze upward.

_This cave is open to the sky…it's bright today, so bright…so many pretty clouds, such strong winds…maybe I'll fly Toothless today…no. No. Don't think of Toothless, don't think of him in the cove don't think don't don't don't don't you can't stop thinking about him he doesn't belong here if he was here you'd be safe but he's not here because you're stupid and you wanted to say something and you couldn't and Dad made you say goodbye to him like you knew he would Dad never listens to you why should he all you do is screw up all you do is make trouble for him I miss Toothless oh Odin I miss Toothless I want him with me more than anything in the world… _

"Oh, Hiccup…" His hot breath, coming in short, excited gasps, ghosted unnervingly across my cheek. His words were an ecstatic rasp in my ears. My insides twisted at the sound, and I tried to think of something, tried to focus… "Beautiful," he whispered. "You're so beautiful, Hiccup…"

_No, don't call me beautiful please don't call me beautiful you have no idea what you're saying I'm not beautiful I'm not if you knew the truth you wouldn't say that you have no idea… _

"So beautiful…" he continued, leaning in and kissing my neck and I couldn't take it, I couldn't stand it, and the peace crumbled away, the sanctuary fell apart, the refuge was in ruins and I couldn't stand it, _I wasn't beautiful_. _I'm not beautiful, please don't call me that, I'm not, I'm ugly and rotten and stupid…_

"So perfect…" he moaned, and he started kissing every inch of me and I could feel his hands and _oh, Odin help me, please, let me be dreaming, let me be dead, let me die, please, make it stop, I'll do anything, I can't stand it, I can't focus, I can't, please let me die…_

He pressed his lips to my ear, kissing the lobe before whispering, "This gets better every year, Hiccup…" He traced the top of my ear with his lips and I just needed to get back to my sanctuary and surround myself with trivial things and petty thoughts and stupid things and I'd be okay,_ dear Odin, just please_…

He kissed my lips. He tasted like the raw meat I'd smelled on his breath earlier. I tried to tighten my mouth, keep him out, but his tongue slipped in unchecked, running over my teeth and I squeezed my eyes shut and the peaceful place was gone, I couldn't get it back, I could feel hot tears building up, but I wouldn't cry, no, I wasn't that pathetic, not yet…

I grasped frantically for some semblance of comfort or peace, trying to pull out the small details again, to surround myself with them, wrap them around me like a well-loved blanket, cradle them close to me like a weathered toy. Even when his tongue hit mine, I stared up at the sky and listened to the sea and felt the sand shifting beneath me, an unsettling sensation against bare skin, and I focused as hard as I could.

_Blue waves. Blue sky. White clouds. Whitecaps. Noisy seagulls. Black rocks. Dark sand. _

"Oh, Hiccup…" When he pulled away, I couldn't make out his face. His features blurred together, and I couldn't speak or think or even breathe, I just stared up at him and tried my hardest not to cry. I was shaking and trembling beneath him.

His hands crept lower, resting on my ribcage for only a moment before dipping lower. "Better every year," he grinned down at me.

I stilled beneath his touch, willing the peaceful place to return. Until then, I'd have to make do.

_Sand. _


End file.
